Under the Skin
by Khilari
Summary: What if a Watchmen character wasn't really human? A triad of stories in which Dan, Laurie or Rorschach turn out to be something unexpected. Contains Dan/Rorschach/Laurie.
1. Strix Noctis

Daniel had told him they couldn't patrol that night, that he had other commitments. It was their best chance to close in on Big Figure and Daniel thought it trivial enough to simply put off. There was little Rorschach could do, not alone and without Archie, so he kicked in Daniel's door sometime after midnight to offer him news and demand food. The house was silent, perhaps Daniel's commitment was elsewhere.

Rorschach ate, dropping the empty cans onto the table so that tomato sauce and tuna brine dripped onto the table. Daniel should have been there. He checked upstairs almost as an afterthought, but the shape of Daniel's body under the blanket was clear. Either his commitment was done or he'd blown off patrol to catch up on some sleep. Rorschach shook his shoulder roughly, but Daniel moved limply with his grip. Rorschach pulled off one glove to check his pulse and found none. His skin was cold.

Rorschach stood with his fingers pressed to Daniel's neck for what felt like an eternity, willing a pulse to flutter under his fingers. Had Daniel died alone up here while he ate? It seemed too much, too sudden, to even begin to understand. The inhuman cry of a screech owl, a sound Daniel had taught him to recognise, rang out loud around him. The owl perched in the open window, watching him with eyes like coins. Its hooked beak and the feathers of its chest were drenched in blood. Something was terribly wrong about it, too much intelligence lurked in those wide eyes. Its head was deformed, the shape almost more human than owl like. It flew into the room fearlessly and perched on Daniel's still chest.

When it bent to push its head into Daniel's mouth Rorschach's frozen body shattered. With a cry almost as inhuman as the owl's own he lashed out at it with his hands. It dodged and shrieked at him, and he screamed back wordless pain and grief. Daniel was dead, his body should not be desecrated as well. Finally the owl settled on the window sill, still regarding him with those unsettling eyes. It clicked its beak before opening it again.

'Calm down,' it said in Daniel's voice.

Rorschach backed against the wall shaking his head wildly, whatever this demon was it would not fool him. 'Stay away,' he croaked at it. The owl sighed.

'It's me,' said the owl. 'If it wasn't I would have killed you by now. I'm much stronger when I don't wear a human body. But I need to return to it before dawn.'

'Who - what are you?' asked Rorschach.

'In the time of Caesar I was called Strix Noctis,' said the owl.

'Night Owl,' translated Rorschach.

Something that might have been a smile quirked around the ends of the owl's beak. 'It was interesting to reclaim that name in the modern age,' it said. 'More interesting to join forces with you. It has been a very long time since I had a friend.'

The loneliness in its voice was real, Rorschach was certain of it, and he stepped away from the wall without thinking. It was Daniel, he believed it, but he didn't understand. 'What are you?'

'You would probably call me a vampire. I do my best to live as a man, but every twenty-five years I have to feed.' Rorschach stared at the blood on its feathers, understanding far more than he liked. 'They were child molesters,' said Daniel. 'I would rather have stayed within the law and turned them in to the police. But I don't think their lives were worth more than mine.'

Daniel was the first friend Rorschach had ever had. He was kind, he shared his food and home. He protected the innocent nightly by Rorschach's side. A good man. 'Neither do I,' he whispered. He stood aside from Daniel's body, and when the owl perched on it he only watched.

The owl pushed its head inside Daniel's mouth, his lips stretching horribly around its shoulders, and slowly pushed its way it. Daniel's face distorted to let it, the shape of it distended his throat before moving into his ribcage. Daniel sighed out a breath and sat up.

Daniel blinked at Rorschach, short sighted without his glasses, and offered a dazed smile. The owl seemed like a dream, an illusion, and Rorschach wasn't sure what to say.

'Hey, buddy,' said Daniel, fumbling on the bedside table for his glasses. 'Did patrol go okay? Sorry I wasn't feeling up to it.'

'It's okay,' said Rorschach. He stepped away from the bed to let Daniel get up. And saw the owl feathers lying at the foot of the bed. He scooped them up as Daniel made his way to the bedroom door. 'Strix Noctis,' he said, and Daniel froze. Brown eyes behind glasses suddenly gazed with the same cold intelligence as wide golden ones.

'I prefer Daniel,' he said.

'Daniel,' said Rorschach, nodding. 'Will need your help tomorrow night.'

The coldness of Daniel's true nature faded and was replaced by warm gratitude. 'Of course,' he said, smiling. 'Tomorrow the Nite Owl Rorschach team will be back on track.'


	2. Smoke

Laurie always loved jewellery, even when she was little, but she seldom wore it. Instead she kept it in a jewellery box in her room and took it out to admire sometimes. She loved the soft gleam of gold and the sparkling gems, but saw no reason to wear them on her skin where everyone could see them instead of just her.

*

When puberty hit her shoulder blades and the base of her spine ached for days. Doctors could find nothing wrong.

*

At eighteen smoke started curling from Laurie's lips when she was angry. She took up smoking to hide it and didn't tell anyone. Her father had always said she was strange, it seemed important not to let on that he was right.

*

After the Crimebusters meeting the Comedian cornered her and complimented her looks. Then he took the cigar out of his mouth and stubbed it out. Smoke curled lazily from his empty mouth.

'You're my father,' said Laurie, startled. She had no reason yet to be dismayed.

'Yup. And you grew up into a damn fine kid.' He stroked her hair and Laurie drew breath to ask what she was, what they were. Sally's shouting interrupted them.

*

Laurie asked Jon where the Comedian's apartment was and tracked him down. She stood in the middle of the floor when he came in, smoke coming from her mouth in puffs undisguised by her pipe.

'You tried to rape my mother,' she said. 'Why the fuck would you do that?'

She didn't want to be here, but she needed to know what she was. Why she existed. The Comedian looked at her, and for once he seemed a little lost.

'I can't explain here,' he said. 'Fancy a drive?'

Laurie should have said 'no' to a long drive with a known rapist. But he was her father, she didn't really believe he would hurt her. And she had to know. He took them to a place in the middle of nowhere, untended fields and scrubby forest, then got out of the car. Laurie followed. The Comedian tipped his head back, stubbed out his cigar and dropped it. His body shimmered and a dragon stood in front of her. He was huge, covered with leathery green scales. He stretched his wings and nearly blotted out the sky. When he turned to look at her with eyes like coals, Laurie folded her arms and stared back at him.

'So. Now you're going to explain,' she said.

He lifted his head and blew two trails of fire into the sky. 'We're dragons. Gold, food, women. If we want something we take it. It's what we are.'

'What you are,' said Laurie, although she could feel her skin prickling with the urge to change. 'I'm a half-breed. And I'm choosing to be human.' She walked back to the car and looked at him challengingly. 'Take me home.'

*

Taking up with Jon seemed like the right thing to do. He was more powerful than a dragon, she couldn't hurt him. Or even attempt to have him against his will. The next time the Comedian tried to talk to her she threw scotch at him.

*

Dan's innocence was something she could smell. It was hard to give in to her attraction, even knowing he was willing.

*

When Jon dissolved in front of her she shot Adrian. When he caught the bullet she gave in and changed. By the time they saw the peace he had created there was nothing left but ashes.

*

After she carried Dan and Rorschach back to Archie and shrank back to her human form she had expected horror and rejection. But Dan never seemed to care, and Rorschach seemed to prefer knowing she wasn't a woman. The three of them had curled up together, learning each others' bodies just to prove they were alive.

*

Rorschach is less innocent than Dan, but he wears his beliefs like battered armour. Laurie thinks of them as her maiden and her knight.


	3. Changes

They're back in Dan's kitchen after a patrol, sharing coffee and talking tactics, when Dan notices the blood. It's dripping out from under Rorschach's coat, forming a puddle on the floor beneath his chair one sinister drop at a time. Rorschach hasn't noticed, intent on the chess pieces he's co-opted as gangsters, and Dan stares at him almost able to believe he's imagining things.

'Uh, buddy?' he says. 'You're bleeding.'

'Don't feel anything,' says Rorschach. He turns, looks under his chair, and even without an expression he looks like he's wondering where the blood has come from. He shrugs out of his coat. 'Better take a look.'

There is blood on his vest, but no slash in it. Nor in his shirt, nor undervest although the back of it is almost entirely red. Dan peels them off as gently as possible, although Rorschach seems numb to any pain. Underneath there is a gash, right down the line of Rorschach's spine and gaping wide, the edges of the skin peeling back from each other.

'God,' says Dan. He doesn't know whether to call an ambulance or try to stitch it himself, it can't be as deep as it looks or Rorschach would be dead. Grabbing a teatowel to try and stem the bleeding comes first, and if Dan can just stop it enough to run for the first aid kit then maybe he can fix this. Pressing the teatowel to the gash he sees something caught in it, a piece of cellophane wrap waving from the edge of the wound. It makes no sense, none of this does, and with a sense of unreality Dan reaches out to pull it away from the gash. It almost doesn't surprise him when it comes and comes, like a handkerchief from a magician's pocket, as large as a towel, and then a tablecloth, a second piece starting to unspool alongside the first. And then the whole kitchen is filled with shimmering waving transparency, like thin silk scarves.

Rorschach turns to look at them too, puzzled and alarmed, and then his head falls forward, dangling from a neck that looks broken. The steady drip of blood becomes a gush, spreading and splashing over Dan's floor, over his feet in their brown leather slippers. Dan yells, tries to staunch the bleeding but the strange silky stuff is in the way. Tries to catch Rorschach as he slumps, landing on the floor with a thunk of his lolling head. His body starts twitching, spasming as he rolls in his own blood. Dan grabs for the telephone, never mind that Rorschach's still in uniform and in Dan's house. He's bleeding to death and having some kind of fit, it doesn't matter if he never forgives him. Before he can hit the numbers the gash in Rorschach's back splits open and something emerges.

It's small, barely larger than a child, and with a disproportionally large head. Spindly, barely there, with arms and legs like twigs. Tail with a sting, like a scorpion, skin stretched and white like a burn scar. Its face is hideous, almost human lips grey-blue and stretched around mandibles, forehead bulging to accommodate huge, lidless, coppery eyes. The transparent stuff is resolving into wings, shimmering and trembling around the monstrous creature at their centre.

It looks like something from a horror movie, or the nastier kind of fairy tale, but Dan is too angry to be afraid. Whatever this thing is it just killed Rorschach, and he grabs the biggest knife from his rack as it chitters at him. The knife hits the edge of one wing and the creature grunts, tries to bundle them behind it. When Dan strikes again, half blinded by tears but aiming at the narrow ribcage, it swings its stinger at him, missing by yards, and runs for the stairs.

It's still clumsy and takes the stairs on all fours, chittering frantically. Dan grabs the back of a wing and hauls it down, pinning the frail body. He manages to trap the tail under one knee, the other pressing between its shoulderblades to pin it to the stairs, surprised he managed that without being stung. He pulls its head back with one hand, baring its neck to his knife. It makes a sound and, even through a mouth that can't manage human speech and from a chest he could almost get his hands around, Dan recognises it as a sob. It hasn't tried to hurt him, that stinger never came anywhere near him, only to frighten him and get away. Dan eases back the pressure on it.

'Rorschach,' he says, quietly. 'That you, buddy?'

It nods and, when Dan pulls away, sits up and wipes its nose on the back of its hand. The gesture's human enough to somehow dispel all doubts. Dan drops the knife and puts his head in his hands.

'I thought you were dead, eaten from the inside out like a grub with an ichneumon wasp,' says Dan. Rorschach makes that odd chittering again, although the rhythm suggests he's trying to form words. Dan smiles at him and risks brushing his hand against one sunken, distorted cheekbone. 'I'm so glad you're not.'

'Hurm.' It's not a word but it's a recognisable sound at least and it gives Dan hope that Rorschach may figure out how to form words later. For now he'll find him some writing paper.

'You know, our coffee's probably still warm,' says Dan. 'I'll bring it and your chess board through to the living room.'

Later he'll clean up the macabre state of his kitchen. Later he'll try to figure out what just happened and why, and what the hell Rorschach is now. Later. For now he's going to fetch their coffee and sit in the living room with his partner and pretend that nothing's changed. Because Rorschach's alive and for now that's really all that matters.


End file.
